The Holiday Card
by Imagination-Parade
Summary: Set a few years in the future, an alternate take on the Hannah-related events in the finale. Deb receives a holiday card from Dexter and Hannah and learns more about their life in Argentina than she ever wanted to know. Rated M only for Deb's language.


_A_ Dexter_ holiday story for you all, with an alternate take on the Hannah-related events in the finale. As always, nothing's mine, and please review :)_

* * *

Debra Morgan was exactly 23 minutes late when she stumbled into the morning meeting, dark sunglasses still covering her eyes. Her employees were waiting impatiently in their chairs, their chatter halting when the lieutenant walked in. She took her place behind her podium, adjusted her sunglasses against her nose, and took a deep breath.

"Sorry I'm late," she muttered. "Where are we on the, uh…the...ocean…killer."

"The lifeguard murders?" Masuka asked.

"Whatever. Fuck," she responded. She stood up a little straighter, took another deep breath, and sighed. "Yes. Those."

Quinn began describing where the previous day's lead had taken him, and Deb placed one hand on her hip, yawning as she rubbed her forehead with her other hand.

"Okay, so the next step is to, uh…you should…follow up on" Deb said. She hadn't processed anything Quinn had said.

"Did you listen to a word I just said?" Quinn asked loudly, standing from his chair. "It was a dead end. There's nothing to follow up on!"

"God! Fuck! You don't have to yell at me," Deb said.

"I'm not yelling," he said.

Batista held up his own hand, and Quinn backed off, returning to his seat.

"Deb…a minute?" Batista asked.

"Sure," Deb sighed. "You know what? Let's reconvene in about twenty."

Everyone but Batista and Masuka filed out of the room. Masuka remained in his seat a few rows back, while Batista took a seat on a stool in the front of the room. Deb groaned and slumped into a seat in the first row of chairs.

"You're hung over," Batista said, stating the obvious.

"I fucking wish that was my only problem," Deb said. She laughed and added, "Actually, if I'm wishing for things, I wish I was still shitfaced.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Got this in the mail yesterday," Deb said, pulling a folded envelope out of her back jeans pocket. "A late holiday card from my dearly departed brother. Happy fucking New Year to me."

"Dexter?" Masuka asked. "You know where he is?"

"No," Deb said with another laugh. She finally raised the sunglasses to rest on the top of her head. Her eyes looked dark and tired. "Fucker sent it without a return address…like he always does. There's a nice picture of him in there, though. Him and the _family_."

"Hannah?" Batista asked.

"She's there. Shit-eating grin on her face," Deb sneered. "And Harrison, who's so big I barely recognize him…and Harrison's fucking baby sister."

"Shit," Masuka exclaimed.

"That's one way to put it," Deb said. "I have a niece, and I didn't even know! My brother had a baby with that…_killer_. I mean, can you even imagine two other people in this world who shouldn't have reproduced _at all_ let alone with each other? And her name…Pansy or Cindy Lou or some Alabama shit like that."

"Daisy Lynn Morgan," Batista said, reading off the card he now held in his hands. "She's cute."

"No, she's not. She looks just like _Hannah_," Deb said, the other woman's name dripping with disgust.

"Let me see that," Masuka asked. "I've never seen a smoking hot baby before."

"What?" Deb asked.

"You said she looks just like Hannah, and _Hannah_ is…"

"Yeah, okay, Hannah's gorgeous. She's probably one of those evil women who looked like a ruler again three seconds after having a baby. I get your fucking point, alright?" Deb said, shutting Masuka down before he could say something even worse. She turned back to Batista and crossed her arms. "The baby's not even the worst part."

"What's that?" Batista asked.

"Look at their fingers!" Deb cried.

Batista took a closer look at the photograph, then finally passed it to Masuka. Masuka stared at the photo for a minute and looked confused.

"What am I looking at?" he asked.

"Rings," Batista said softly.

"He fucking _married_ Hannah McKay!" Deb exclaimed.

"Are you surprised?" Batista asked. "He got her out of jail. They ran away together, Deb. You didn't think they'd end up married?"

"I don't fucking know!" she said. "I didn't think about it. I was a little preoccupied by the realization that the mother my nephew is going to remember is a cold-blooded killer."

"Dexter's a killer, too," Batista said softly.

"I know!" Deb said. "Jesus!"

She stood up, snatched the photo card back from Masuka, and headed out of the room. Batista turned as she walked away.

"Deb, the meeting," Batista reminded her.

"You can handle it today," she said, fishing a bottle of Xanax pills out of her pocket. "I need to lie down."

Deb swallowed the Xanax as she collapsed onto the couch in her office, holding the photo card in front of her face. It'd been two years since she'd seen her brother in person. She thought he had been satisfied with his decision to turn Hannah McKay in for Sal Price's murder, but the next thing she knew, she was in the courthouse with Hannah for her arraignment, and the judge was dropping the charges against her, the case dismissed due to lack of evidence. Arlene Schram cried from the audience, and Hannah looked momentarily stunned before shooting Deb a look of evil victory.

The pen had mysteriously disappeared from the Miami Metro evidence locker. The pen had disappeared, and Deb instantly knew that Dexter had done it. She had returned to the station fuming and out for Dexter's blood when LaGuerta confronted her about her correct conclusion that Dexter was the Bay Harbor Butcher. Deb hadn't meant to confirm LaGuerta's findings, but, in the haste of blind anger, she had…loudly…to her entire team. LaGuerta, unconcerned with Deb's role in Dexter's double life, raced off to arrest the blood analyst and get her bad guy, and Deb sped off to the Hannah-Flora Nursery for a confrontation with hers. LaGuerta found an empty apartment. Debra found an empty house. They were gone, both of their quests would remain unfinished, and it was then that Deb realized the two detectives weren't that different after all.

Deb tossed the picture card across the room, watching as it fluttered face-down to the floor, and popped another Xanax. Fuck the meeting. She was going to sleep the morning away in her office, if only to cheat and get one more second of just-waking-up peace out of her day.

* * *

Dexter had prepared his and Harrison's things before Hannah's arraignment, knowing the charges against her would be dropped. They had been waiting for her at the nursery when she arrived home, and they were gone within the hour. They hadn't known where to go. If someone went looking for them, Argentina might not be safe for them yet, so upon staring at destinations on the departures board at the Miami International Airport, Dexter had made a split-second decision to fly to Europe and take Hannah to see the snow for real.

The decision to give Hannah the engagement ring he had purchased before leaving Miami was less of a split-second decision. The cold, white flakes sunk into her blonde hair, and when she had turned to thank him, the brilliant smile on her face turned into a look of surprise when she had found Harrison snuggled in Dexter's arms, an opened ring box in his small hand.

"Dexter," she had sighed.

"I am one hundred percent sure about you," he had told her simply.

Dexter and Hannah were married the following summer, in a small ceremony with just the two of them and Harrison. They finally made it to Argentina when Hannah's belly started to swell. She built a new nursery in the backyard of their farm, and he took a position in a research lab, and they led a quiet life together, away from the temptation of crime scenes and old secrets.

They always celebrated the holidays on Christmas Eve, just as they had done their very first holiday together in Miami. Dexter finished getting Harrison ready for the evening festivities and headed out to the living room to meet the rest of his family. Hannah, however, wasn't there. He peered out the window to find Hannah holding Daisy in the middle of her sunflower field, smiling as she held a flower up to the little girl's face. He opened the back door and called her name. Her eyes grew wide when she noticed his Christmas attire, and ran back to the house.

"Sorry, sorry," she sighed, entering through the back door. She hung her floppy hat on a hook by the door before removing Daisy's and fluffing her light hair. "Daisy wanted to see the flowers."

"Of course she did," Dexter said knowingly, wiping a smudge of dirt off his daughter's flawless face.

"I'll be quick, I promise," she said.

"It's okay," Dexter said. "Why don't you take the picture real quick? I'll work on Deb's card while you get ready."

Hannah looked confused. "Uh…how could you do Debra's card before Daisy and I get dressed?"

"Well…last year's picture to Deb was just Harrison and me, so I thought…" he said, trailing off when he realized his assumption was wrong.

She laughed nervously and brushed her hair behind her ear. "I thought we would take a picture of all of us this year," she said. "Plus, I wanted to send a picture to Arlene. Is that a problem?"

"You can send a card to Arlene," he said. "Harrison wants to send a card to Astor and Cody, too."

"No, Dex, I meant…do you not want to send a family picture to Debra?"

Dexter sighed. "Deb doesn't know we're married," he admitted.

"We've been married for a year and a half," she said.

"I know," Dexter said.

"And I'm not going anywhere," she said.

"I don't want you to," he told her.

"Does she know about Daisy?" Hannah asked. Dexter didn't say anything. Hannah looked down at the baby in her arms, a wave of pain crossing her pale face. She spoke softly, her voice dripping with hurt as she said, "I get not wanting to tell Debra you married a woman she hated, no matter how misguided that hate may have been, but you don't want to tell her about our little girl?"

"It's not like that," Dexter said immediately.

"Then what's it like, Dex? Are you ashamed of her?" Hannah asked. "Are you ashamed of who her mother is?"

"No," he said, moving forward to caress Hannah's cheek. "No, Hannah, not at all."

"Then what?" she asked. "I mean, you send her half a dozen postcards a year. How hard is it to put in _one_ mention…"

"I didn't know how to tell her," Dexter said.

"Debra has a niece…"

"That she'll never meet," Dexter interrupted. "That she'll only get to see grow up in pictures. That she can't buy Christmas presents for because I can't give her an address. I already took Harrison away from her. I don't want to hurt her."

"It's a little late for that," Hannah said. She looked down at her daughter again and said, "We're going to go change."

The girls left the room, and Dexter turned to find Harrison on the floor, rooting through the presents under the tree. "Hey!" he said. "What are you doing?"

"Sorting," Harrison said. "They were all mixed up, so I read the labels and made piles for everyone. Hannah said we can open presents and then play with the new toys while you make dinner, and I'm hungry, so the faster we open, the faster I can eat!"

Dexter pat his son's head and sat down on the couch next to him. "That was a good idea, Harrison."

"Why can't we tell Aunt Deb about my sister?" Harrison asked. "I like my sister."

Dexter sighed. "You heard that?"

"Hannah always says I have big ears," Harrison shrugged.

Hannah and Daisy came back about half an hour later. Hannah wore the same long green dress she wore in Miami, her hair tousled around her face, and she had dressed Daisy in a sparkly gold dress and a black flower headband, leaving her little feet bare. She looked beautiful, but her mood was subdued as she sat down next to Dexter on the couch.

"I'll take a picture of just you and Harrison for Debra," she said. "She's your sister. It's your call."

"Actually," Dexter said, pulling something from the table by the couch. "I was thinking we could send her something like this."

He handed her a mock-up card he'd put together while Hannah was getting dressed, taking Daisy from her arms, and her face softened.

"Happy New Year from the Morgans…" she read with a small smile. She looked up at her husband and asked, "Really?" Dexter nodded. She leaned over and gave him a soft kiss. "Thank you."

Harrison hopped up onto Hannah's lap as Dexter walked over to the camera to set the self-timer, Daisy still nestled snugly in his arms. Hannah kissed Harrison's cheek and wrapped her arm around him. Dexter adjusted the settings on the camera, pressed the button, and joined his family on the couch, placing Daisy on his knee and a hand on Hannah's lower back.

"10 seconds," Dexter said. "Everyone smile."

* * *

_Thanks for reading! Happy New Year!_


End file.
